


gingerbreads

by petitemoony



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, No Beta, Oblivious Harry Potter, author isnt native speaker, my kids are in love :D, there's just fluff tho, unless???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petitemoony/pseuds/petitemoony
Summary: maybe this Christmas won't be so bad?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 16





	gingerbreads

**Author's Note:**

> marry christmas guys!!  
> love,  
> cass <33

**HARRY LOVED CHRISTMAS.** He adored them since he had to spend it first time without uncle, at school. Snowy fluff outside the window, joyfully flickering lights, hot chocolate, sweets, lovely decorations and Christmas tree – all of these things stole his heart. He was eleven when he got his first presents, just on Christmas Eve. He unpacked them with his friend, feeling a little ashamed that he hadn't thought of sending something to others but above all he was filled with love and happiness so great that the redheaded boy didn't even know what to say. So he was silent, smiling cheerfully at the four-eyes and enjoying the moment. They laughed, talked, played games by the fireplace. It was like this every year.

Until now.

Harry, Ron and Hermione already had a bad feeling when Harry was asked two days before the start of the holidays to the headmaster's office, although they were trying to delute themselves that there was something to do with Voldemort's official return. The media was still buzzing about security measures, further dangers, masacress in muggles villages and also disappearances. Potter thought Dumbledore might want to offer him staying in Hogwarts to avoid danger. After all, he was the Chosen One, the Golden Boy who had to live through the war to kill He – Who – Must – Not – Be – Named, he couldn't die in something as stupid as attack on Prived Drive or the Weasley's house where he was about to go with friends. He realized how wrong he was when the old man's got cloudy as soon as Harry sat in the uncomfortable chair next to his desk.

"Harry, my boy" he started out with a depressed voice and even the elves on his robes stopped dancing happily. "You can't imagine how sorry I am to have to tell you this..."

After this sentence various thoughts started to flow though the head of a sixteen years old. Did something happened to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley? No, then Ron would be sitting there with Ginny. Voldemort somehow killed kimself? No, then he wouldn't be sorry. Prolly... Maybe he dissappered again? No, that's impossible. And once more, Dumbledore'd be rather happy. Snape left for release by the end of the year? But why would he tell him that? Harry doesn't even like Snape.

"Are you listening to me, Harry?"

"Umm, yes. I am now, sorry, professor."

The wizard sent him an indulgent look from behind of his half – glasses, but made no other comment. Thank Gods.

"Like I said, you have to go back to your uncle and aunt for Christmas, Harry. Tom and his Deatheaters are not idle, they can attack the school at any time and when there are less teachers than usual, getting to you will be much easier. And since your mother's protection is still working..."

So they are alive...

_Wait a minute._

"But why can't I stay with Ron, professor?" he asked when he got the sense of his caller speech. "There will be lots of skilled wizards and witches so I will stay safe."

"Because I said so" answered Albus or at least that's what Gryffindor understood from his loooong speech. After all, there was no point in what Headmaster said – with a group of aurors who were part od Mrs. Weasley's Christmas Eve guest, he would be protected as never before. Cartainly not as in Little Whinging with muggles all around and no chance to use magic. Alone, unless you count the Dark Lord when he realises the protection of The – Boy – Who – He – Couldn't – Kill – Like – Five – Times moms isn't working since he used raven haired's blood.

And knowing his luck, the other will find out this week.

It's going to be a wonderful holidays.

Th same everning he told Hermione he won't show up at Burrow's this time because of Dumbledore's decision. She took it quite calmly, only comforting him and regretting he must go back at this monsters ("again!") but "Dumbledore can't be wrong, right?". He also sent the olw to the Weasleys, apologizing since he couldn't make this and he got the answer the next day at breakfast. Fortunately noone was mad at him; Molly even promised to send him gifts from them and trying to convice Dumbledore to let him stay for a few days. The hardest thing to him was telling his redheaded friend who couldn't wait for the wonderful things spend on eating, flying and doing nothing. Since begining of the December he hadn't talked about anything else (unless we include Miss Granger whose subject has always been discussed when she wasn't around). His excitement was shared by everyone around him and it was such a beautiful thing to break.

And then there's Draco.

Instead of acting like the man he was, Harry began to avoid his new friend, if their relationship could be called friendship. Since the blond teen ran away from his family before they could force him to accept the Dark Mark (which means plus or minus half of the holidays) and came to Dumbledore to ask for help for himself and his mother, they started to get along somehow. The beginnings may not have been too pleasant (and not because of Ron at all ["WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, YOU NASTY DEATHEATER ?!", "Can you shut up, Weasley or should I make you?", "RONALD BILLUS WEASLEY, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?! STOP IMMEDIATELY!"]), But they caught a common language after a while. Although some of the Slytherin's gestures remained incomprehensible to Potter ("Why did he blush Miona? It doesn't make sense!", "Jesus, Harry, you're so obvious...", "Mate, will we talk about something else sometime? PLEASE."), and some of the looks made him unable to speak, Malfoy was pretty good material for someone closer. They were supposed to meet at the Burrow and Harry didn't want so much to see the disappointment on that particular face ... He didn't want to lie to him either. That's why they stopped talking.

Until during the memorable last day before the awaited (although it depends by whom) free time, the mentioned boy drilled a hole in his back with a look deciding to send a paper plane towards him. Of course, this airplane completely accidentally bumped into his head painfully, but who was he to reproach a friend like that?

Three simple words in a familiar neat handwriting "I already know, Potter" made him afraid to turn to see the expression on the sender's face. Some time later he left the Great Hall, still not looking at the serpent table despite the great temptation. The look of gray eyes only left him as he disappeared behind the door. And somehow he couldn't help but run to the Gryffindor Tower, fearing that Draco would come out after him to talk. How stupid it would make him feel to see that the sixteen-year-old actually walked out a moment after him, only to see the green-eyed male running up the stairs, as if his life depended on it.

But back to the present...

"Will it take you a long time before you're done, boy?!"

"No, uncle Vernon, I'm finishing up now."

"Hurry up!"

"Alright, uncle, I will try cooking faster..."

"You said something?"

"Of course no, aunt Petunia."

"I'M HUNGRY!"

"I know, sweetie, just wait a little longer..."

Harry cursed, thankfully soft enough that no one in the living room could hear it. He immediately put his burned fingers under cold water, and then went back to taking the meal out of the oven and putting it on the plates, this time more carefully. He no longer looked out the window to see the snow falling from the sky, which was rare in England."

At what time did you invite the Polkiss, Pet?"

"Five o'clock, darling. They should be here in a few minutes."

Harry put all the dishes on the table in the living room. He was in the process of adjusting cutlery when there was a knock on the door.

"To your room, boy, and not. a. word!"

He quickly went towards the stairs passing by elegantly dressed relatives (his aunt had to spend millions on this dress..), avoided the leg his cousin pun on him and the first always squecky staircase. He ran in as quietly as possible, disappeiring into the hallway upstairs perfectly when the Dursleys started greating family of Dudley's friend.

The Gryffindor closed the door, trying not to make any noise, then threw himself on the bed. The springs made weeping noises, but there was no way they could hear it downstairs. He was so terribly tired. His aunt and uncle had never spared him a job, but the last week had been exaggeration.

Hedwig hooted cheerfully as he wrapped the duvet around himself to escape the cold temperature of the room. He fell asleep immediately, paying no attention.

🎄

A loud laugh woke Harry, who in the first instinct pulled the pillow on his head. Something rattled on his window, but he stubbornly tried to get back to sleep. The sound of breaking glass from the living room broke through the ceiling into his little room, and in general the prevailing noise became more and more difficult to withstand. Something knocked again, and Hedwig hooted.

The teenager jumped up suddenly. _Knocked_? He rubbed his still sleepy eyes with his fists, peeking towards the window. A beautiful long-eared owl sat on the windowsill on the outside, staring directly at the speechless boy as if impatient. Potter scrambled out of the warm bed, walking to the window in a few steps then opening it fully to let the animal in. He closed them immediately after that, shivering slightly with the cold. Well, letting the December frosty air in all day wasn't the smartest thing to do.

The owl fluttered its wings as it stood on the back of an old chair by the Dudley desk. Without taking his eyes off it, like Draco at a pre-Christmas feast, it waited for him to unhook a small package tied with a string from its leg. Harry, a little distrustfully, approached her and, returning his gaze, slowly reached his hand towards the package, if you could call it something the size of a matchbox. He didn't know this owl, he didn't even recognised it. He has already received gifts from everyone, so who could send her?

Maybe Voldemort?

"Who sent you?" he asked. The owl gave him a look that Potions Master himself would not be ashamed of. But she can't be from Snape, can she? "Understood, _thanks_."

He put the red box on a small pile of presents in front of his bed. They came this morning but he hasn't found time to open them yet.

"Wait, I should have some food here still..."

"Hoot!" she thundered angrily, flapping again. "You want to go now? Aren't you tired? You must have come a long way and..."

"HOOT!"

"Allright!" he snarled. "Get lost then!"

He barely had time to crack the window open as the animal passed him, flying out.

"Mhm." Harry watched kind of stupidly as the earpiece disapeair behind the vertebrae. "How about you, girl? Aren't you hungry?"

After feeding Hedwig, who bit him by the way (she probably wanted to accompany the stranger and stretch her wings as well), he sat cross-legged on the floor next to the gifts. He grabbed the latest one, watching it from all angles, when suddenly it let out a soft "puff!" and grew bigger. Potter's eyes widened as such a small object was now slightly larger than a shoe box.

The package was wrapped in red gift paper on which brooms and golden snitches flew. In the middle the sender only wrote "Potter" and underlined it twice, and Harry immediately recognized the blonde's handwriting. Heat spilled over his body, and perhaps the most sincere smile of his life appeared on his face.

_He remembered._

Harry was glad he thought of giving Ron a gift from himself, ordering him to send it to Malfoy before Christmas Eve, because he would probably burn out of shame now. He just hoped he hadn't forgotten (totally by accident, of course, because Draco was a Malfoy that didn't matter to him) to sent an owl.

Green eyes stared bluntly at the box for a moment, wondering what to do. Finally, after a long moment, he put them gently aside, deciding to open them last. He eagerly started unwrapping the remaining gifts.

After a while he was wearing a bottle green sweater from Mrs. Weasley (Ron's mom always said that this color highlights his eyes beautifully). Her husband gave him a set of rubber ducklings (the whole family!), The twins gave him some pranks from their store, and Ginny, just like Molly, a sweater and warm socks. Ron sent him a lot of sweets, Hermione "Potions from scratch for the Dummies" (he could have sworn that this cover is fake and the real one has "idiots" not "reluctant". Perhaps he even saw her in the bookstore...), Neville a few medicinal plants ("They will come in handy, Harry!") and even got a gift from Luna! It was a book that went beyond their Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum (at least she came with an interesting reading...). Several members of Dumbledore's Army had also sent him sweets with requests to reactivate their "club". It was all beautifully decorated with wishes attached, making the black-haired man feel wonderful.

He was eating a chocolate frog from Seamus when loud goodbyes and the slamming of the door signaled that his aunt and uncle's meeting was over. It was quite late, but with the early winter sunset, the Gryffindor had no idea of the exact time. He wiped his eyes as he lay down on the floor sighing softly. He got up soon afterwards remembering himself about one more unpacked gift.

And even the Salazar Slytherin's unique card suddenly became irrelevant when a shipment from Draco landed on his lap. 

He looked at it from all sides slowly, without hurring. Enchanted patterns escaped as he touched them with his fingers, in which Harry completely fell in love. He didn't know where his friend bought the paper but decided to ask him as soon as possible. He toyed with the packaging for a while, then gently ripped off without damaging it more than necessary. Under the decorative paper there was a (also red) box tied with a dark green ribbon. The boy untied it, feeling the warmth in his heart, and pulled the lid off.

It was the letter that he saw first. He put it aside, noticing a small army of a little crooked gingerbreads staring at him beneath it. He took one, bite it's head off and smiled even wider if possible. Malfoy must have had some help making them, he was sure, because although they weren't perfect, they were still much better than if he'd made them himself. But what's surprising if pureblood wizards were not even required to be able to brew tea themselves?

While eating the delicacies, he took the envelope back into his hands, noticing its strange weight. HeHe broke the seal with the Malfoy family crest and pulled out a small ornament from the center instead of parchment.

"Do like look like a woman to him, Hedwig?" he purred, recognizing in a misterious object something that aunt Petunia sometimes wear and whose name he could not remember.

"Hoot!"

He turned his eyes up while laughing quietly.

The brooch was silver - knowing Slytherin probably not silver-plated, but really made of pure silver, so he didn't even want to wonder how much it was worth - in the shape of a snake whose body was gently arranged in the letter M. Harry did not know if it was a coincidence, but decided to not think about it too long. The snake wasn't big. It had emerald eyes and a pulled out tongue, and in some strange way it hit Harry's taste completly, even though he had never liked such bollock, as he used to call it. And even more so with women's bollock.

Brunette, after a few moments of reflection, pinned the brooch to his clothes. He was already putting another baking in his mouth, this time a ridiculously decorated Christmas tree, when suddenly he felt a strong jerk around his navel.

🎄

"Potter."

... _What_.

Harry looked around. He was in a living room at some house, that was for sure. The large, colorful Christmas tree shimmered from the lights of colored lights. A huge sock hung over the rattling fireplace. After staring for a while, the boy noticed some new things like a few photo frames. The table stood a little further, along with the funny-looking old chairs, was also in the room couch and...

" _Potter_."

"Hullo, Zabini?" he replied uncertainly, finally noticing his colleague who, by the way, looked terribly tired. He was trying to get up, when he remembered about the box resting on his lap. Harry surveyed the losses with a keen glance, but, strangely, they did not come, and the little army was watching with the same ferocity. Finally, taking the cookies in his hands and placing them on the table as soon as he stretched his legs, he asked, "Where am I?"

"At my house" Mulatto still hasn't moved from the entrance and the green eyes only just noticed that he's wearing a pijama. "Draco get you here, by the portkey."

"Is Draco here? And what portke..."

"In the brooch, we enchanted it. Draco will explain everything to you when he gets up, and now if you let me I will go back to bed too. The guest room is to the left, make yourself at home."

Then he left without looking back. And Harry really didn't know what to do. 

He looked at the clock, and when he saw the hands pointing nineteen after two in the morning, he felt a little stupid. Of course, he was over immediately, because if they hadn't wanted to pull him over against his will (or rather against Dumbledore's will), he wouldn't wake them up. Nevertheless, he felt a little uncomfortable being left alone in a strange house, especially at this late hour.

He took the Draco's gift and headed to the comfortable looking armchair to think what to do next. In theory, he shouldn't be here. The Order will finally find out then panic and searches would begin. Voldemort might find him easier here too, and he might kill the Dursleys if he didn't find him on Prived Drive, and no matter how much he disliked them, he didn't want them dead. He also puts Blaise and Draco at risk with his presence here and he really did not want them to die. While they surely wouldn't have been spending their time here if they hadn't been sure they were safe, Malfoy was wanted by He – Who – Must – Not – Be – Named... 

"Stop thinking so much, Potter. It doesn't suit you."

He jumped up suddenly torn of his mind, which the blond one commented on with his comically raised eyebrow. Harry didn't know where he came from but now he was sitting upright on the sofa that was standing next to his armchair. The only thing that inticanted that he slept was broken hair and crumpled pijamas.

"It's nice to see you too, Draco." Harry grinned broadly, causing his interlocutor's mask to crack. A small smile bloomed on the Slytherin's pale face as well, causing warmth to spread over the Gryffindor's body again. Not that he was complaining ...

"Do you always unpack your presents at two in the morning?"

And they got into the conversation. After several dozen minutes, when fatigue hit them both again, they went to bed in wonderful moods. Harry, throwing himself into the soft, warm sheets, was smiling widely, hiding his face in the pillow and clenching his hands on it.

If Malfoy won't let him go home for the next few days anyway, is it worth worrying about the Order or war now? Draco said they were in Norway and Dumbledore will definitely not be lookinf for them here so...

_Maybe this Christmas won't be so bad?_

**Author's Note:**

> if you see any mistakes please tell me, i'm not native so-- also this is my first work in english gfjefjn hope it's understable!!


End file.
